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Chapter 138n
🕑 Added 2025-08-23 15:01:06 +0000 UTCChapter 138n
2-in-1-chapter
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“Enough! I already told you, it’s not possible! Orochimaru saving you and your life belonging to him are not the same thing at all. Your life doesn’t belong to anyone. It belongs only to yourself.” These words had been said more than once, but Kimimaro was as stubborn as a mule, and nothing Shisui said could shake him from his conviction.
The next moment, Kimimaro argued back. “If my life belongs to me, then it’s my freedom to decide how to use it. If you don’t let me leave your side, doesn’t that mean my life is in your hands? That’s nothing but deception!”
“That’s different.”
Shisui could not help wanting to scratch his head.
The boy seemed quiet and aloof on the surface, but once he opened his mouth, he was quick-witted and sharp-tongued to the point of giving Shisui a headache. With no small amount of helplessness, he said, “I already told you, you’re still just a child. And I don’t intend to harm you. On the contrary, staying by Orochimaru’s side will only destroy you sooner or later.”
“To make myself useful to Lord Orochimaru is my greatest wish.”
Kimimaro spoke each word with deliberate firmness.
Shisui let out a heavy sigh. Every conversation circled back into this same deadlock. He truly wondered how Orochimaru had managed to brainwash this child. He had found no trace of genjutsu or mental interference in Kimimaro’s consciousness.
And that fact only made Orochimaru seem more frightening. To twist another’s will without relying on illusions or mind techniques, even when the target was a child whose mind was not yet mature—such a thing was chilling. The killing intent within Shisui grew heavier by the day, and he felt a pang of regret. If he had known from the start that Orochimaru’s soul was unstable, he might have simply ended it with genjutsu immediately.
“Shisui, what are you standing around here for? Arguing with a child? Isn’t that embarrassing?”
The familiar voice from ahead drew Shisui’s gaze away from Kimimaro. Seeing Rēn before him, Shisui’s eyes lit up. “Rēn, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Rēn rolled his eyes. “Shisui, take a look around. This is Kirigakure’s front gate, and you, a Konoha shinobi, have been standing here for half a day. Do you think the Mist-nin are blind?” He had just finished sending Hyūga Masayuki away and had been about to go into seclusion for training when someone reported that Shisui had returned—only to be lingering at Kirigakure’s gate with a child in tow.
So Rēn had delayed his training to see what nonsense Shisui was up to.
Back so soon—had he already found those items?
“I had a reason for this,” Shisui said in frustration. “This child…”
“Where did this kid come from?”
Rēn ignored Shisui’s explanation. Looking at the white-haired, green-eyed boy who had taken up a defensive stance as though facing a mortal enemy, he grew curious. “Not a bad stance. Looks like he’s been trained, and his chakra is impressive, both in quality and in volume… Shisui, where did you kidnap this child from?”
“What do you take me for?”
Shisui could only smile bitterly. “Just listen to me…”
“You, brat, what’s your name?” Rēn crouched down and looked directly at Kimimaro. The white hair and green eyes did not remind him of the tragic genius who had once died of a bloodline disease. After all, white hair was not unique— the Hōzuki clan had it, and Kakashi did as well.
Faced with Rēn’s question, Kimimaro’s instincts screamed that the man before him was a monster wrapped in human skin. Compelled by fear, he swung his fist instead of answering. From his wrist sprouted a sharp white bone that he drove straight at Rēn’s chest.
“Hmm?”
Rēn was startled.
So this was… the Shikotsumyaku?
Before the bone could pierce him, Rēn raised his hand and tapped Kimimaro’s hand lightly. Black curse seal patterns spread across Kimimaro’s body like wriggling tadpoles, binding him completely immobile.
“So it really is the Shikotsumyaku?”
Rēn examined the boy, frozen in place, and touched the sharp bone jutting from his wrist. Clicking his tongue in wonder, he thought to himself that the Kaguya clan had supposedly been annihilated by Kirigakure. By all accounts, the clan’s last surviving child should have been taken by Orochimaru. Yet the power Kimimaro had just used was undeniably the bloodline limit of the Kaguya: the Shikotsumyaku.
Could it be that—
“Shisui, what happened to your shoulder?”
Rēn turned and noticed the bandages wrapped around Shisui’s right shoulder.
YOU just noticed!?
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The gate of Kirigakure was no place for conversation. Carrying the immobilized Kimimaro, Rēn led Shisui back to their quarters in the village. Once they were in the office, he tossed Kimimaro onto the sofa and released the binding of the Curse Seal.
Kimimaro regained control of his body midair, adjusted his movements, and landed without injury. This time, however, he dared not act recklessly again. He sat quietly on the sofa, face expressionless, his eyes fixed on Rēn.
“Speak, Shisui. What exactly is going on? I told you to find someone long dead, and you come back with a child?” Rēn sat down opposite him, locking eyes with the green-eyed boy.
“The mission failed.”
Shisui sat beside Kimimaro, reporting the result with evident guilt.
“Failed? That’s not surprising. If it were so easy to uncover, it wouldn’t have remained hidden for decades.” Rēn’s voice carried some regret. He had hoped that the Six Paths Tools would give him deeper insight into the essence of ninjutsu.
Of course, among all the Six Paths Tools, the one he wanted most was the Bashōsen—the fan capable of wielding all five elemental chakra natures regardless of the user’s affinity. The others, cumbersome and inconvenient, held little appeal.
With the Uchiha fan already in hand, even Samehada had been relegated to a lesser role.
The pursuit of the Six Paths Tools had been about exploring the mysteries of ninjutsu and fūinjutsu. His innate ability, The Knight Does Not Die Empty-Handed, granted him absolute mastery over ninja tools, allowing him to analyze their hidden secrets.
Unfortunately, without the tool, there was nothing to analyse…
“It’s not that I couldn’t find them. Someone got there first.”
“…Who?”
Even as he asked, Rēn already suspected the answer.
“Orochimaru.”
The name confirmed his thoughts. Of course—it had to be Orochimaru, the shinobi world’s foremost grave robber. First digging up his own kin, then leaving Konoha, and now expanding his operations abroad.
“Orochimaru, huh?”
Rēn frowned slightly, then relaxed. This was not the worst news.
If the tools had fallen into Orochimaru’s hands, there was still a chance to recover them—whether through strength or negotiation. The only difficulty lay in finding him. His lairs were scattered across the world, and pinning down his movements would not be easy.
He had already sent Uchiha Akitarō to the Land of Fields in search of him, only for the effort to yield nothing—not even a glimpse.
“Our encounter was purely accidental…” Shisui recounted his entire confrontation with Orochimaru in detail, ending with a regretful sigh. “If only I had known his soul was unstable from the start. Had I used genjutsu immediately, it wouldn’t have turned into such a mess.”
“You’re overthinking it.”
Rēn cut him off without hesitation. “Defeating Orochimaru may not be that difficult, but killing him outright… even I am not confident. His ability to survive is too strong. Even if you and I used our dōjutsu together, we might not be able to truly finish him.”
That man was a long-lived one who had survived since the great ninja war all the way to when the Boroto seireis started.
“No wonder they call him one of the Legendary Sannin.”
Even as cold water was poured over his pride, Shisui did not take offense. He only sighed in admiration at Orochimaru’s strength. After witnessing those strange techniques firsthand, he knew well that killing Orochimaru was no simple matter. He then reached into his pouch and produced a sealing scroll. “Inside here is the katana that Orochimaru used to wound me. It is a very unusual blade, one that can be controlled through the air without wires or any other tools. If not for that…”
As he spoke, he undid the seal and drew out the sword he had claimed as a trophy.
“Where was your Susanoo?”
Rēn cast a glance at Shisui’s shoulder and scolded him. “You had Susanoo but chose not to use it, and instead took a blade like that. Be careful—if you keep holding back until the end, you may lose the chance to show your real strength. If Orochimaru had smeared that sword with poison, what would you have done?”
“This time I was careless.”
Shisui admitted his mistake with a trace of helplessness. In his reflections after the battle, he too realized that, because he had caught hold of Orochimaru’s true body, he had grown overconfident. As Rēn said, if Orochimaru had tampered with that strange katana, he might well have died through his own negligence.
Rēn ignored him.
He reached for the blade and invoked the power of The Knight Does Not Die Empty-Handed. In an instant, the lingering contract imprint embedded in the katana was washed away. Whatever measures Orochimaru had left behind, the sword could no longer be reclaimed.
“This is a Kusanagi Sword.”
Rēn looked down at the blade in his hand without the slightest surprise.
Orochimaru’s obsession with collecting Kusanagi Swords was hardly a secret. Any shinobi of Konoha who had once fought alongside him knew that Orochimaru possessed more than one of them. The most famous was the blade that could extend and contract freely at will.
“So it really is a Kusanagi Sword!”
Shisui too had heard the name.
The so-called Kusanagi Sword did not refer to a single, specific weapon but rather to an entire system of blades. As for how many existed in the shinobi world, it was impossible to determine, just as their origin was shrouded in uncertainty. Perhaps only Orochimaru, a fanatical collector and devotee of the Kusanagi Swords, knew more than most.
Even the Uchiha clan’s family archives contained no detailed records of them. There was only a passing mention of two: one that could amplify Lightning Style techniques, and another that enhanced Wind Style techniques. The clan’s ancestors had once obtained them, but the Lightning-amplifying sword was lost long ago, leaving only the one that strengthened Wind Style.
That blade now hung at Uchiha Chihaya’s waist.
“Kusanagi Sword: Sky Blade.”
Rēn spoke aloud the name of the sword in his hand, his expression showing interest. “Interesting. This sword’s ability is to dance through the air according to the will of its wielder. Using it to strike from behind truly is a difficult tactic to defend against.”
The blade gave him the impression of a flying sword.
Only—its range was limited.
Striking down an enemy from a thousand miles away was impossible. At most, its effective range was around a hundred meters, and even then, the extent of its power depended on the strength of its wielder’s spirit and will.
